


Ondine

by haplesshippo



Series: Gaspard de la nuit [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haplesshippo/pseuds/haplesshippo
Summary: Legends tell of a mythical creature named Ondine, who resides in lakes and tempts men into its lair with promises of eternal life.  Its clothes are said to be woven out of moonlight, and it takes the visage of man's greatest desire.  It arrives with dusk and leaves at dawn, leaving no trace of its presence except for the drowned corpses of its victims.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ""Listen! – Listen! – It is I, it is Ondine who brushes drops of water on the resonant panes of your windows lit by the gloomy rays of the moon; and here in gown of watered silk, the mistress of the chateau gazes from her balcony on the beautiful starry night and the beautiful sleeping lake.
> 
> "Each wave is a water sprite who swims in the stream, each stream is a footpath that winds towards my palace, and my palace is a fluid structure, at the bottom of the lake, in a triangle of fire, of earth and of air.
> 
> "Listen! – Listen! – My father whips the croaking water with a branch of a green alder tree, and my sisters caress with their arms of foam the cool islands of herbs, of water lilies, and of corn flowers, or laugh at the decrepit and bearded willow who fishes at the line."
> 
> Her song murmured, she beseeched me to accept her ring on my finger, to be the husband of an Ondine, and to visit her in her palace and be king of the lakes.
> 
> And as I was replying to her that I loved a mortal, sullen and spiteful, she wept some tears, uttered a burst of laughter, and vanished in a shower that streamed white down the length of my blue stained glass windows."
> 
> -Ondine, by Aloysius Bertrand
> 
> Recommended listening: [Ondine by Ravel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_-1qMPDf-A)

Snow blanketed the forest, creating a landscape of whites and blacks and grays.  The sun was about to set, casting what had been beautiful in the daylight into ominous shadows.  Each step Viktor took brought him shin deep in snow.  He hunched his shoulders up towards his ears.  Each breath he took blew frost into the chilly air.  The only sound that accompanied him was the crunching of snow beneath his heavy boots and cracking of trees as their limbs collapsed beneath the oppressive weight of ice.

Viktor cursed himself.  Of course he’d gotten distracted and lost the rest of his hiking group.  Honestly, how silly could he be?  They must have been worried sick looking for him, but no matter how much Viktor yelled and called, he heard no response, only his own voice echoed back at him.

He’d tried retracing his steps when he’d realized he’d gotten lost, but it was as if someone had come behind him and erased all of his tracks.  He found no disturbed snow, only a smooth landscape, as if nothing had dared to tread in this area.  Viktor shivered at the thought of something so dangerous here that even the wildlife avoided.

He kept trekking through the snow, hoping that he was headed in the right direction of civilization.  His phone was dead, his flashlight already starting to sputter, and compass useless, as it kept spinning in circles.

It seemed like he’d been looking for any sign of life for hours.  Time crawled by slowly, marked only by the setting sun that had been such a comfort in the day but now was only a constant reminder that the day was about to get colder, more dangerous.  Threats seemed to lurk behind every tree.

Viktor finally decided to take a break beneath a tree, hoping that it wouldn’t dump snow on his head in the next couple of minutes.  He rummaged through his backpack for his thermos and inhaled the scent of coffee that was cold.  He stared out at the trees listlessly and mourned.  Viktor really hoped he wouldn’t die here, in the middle of the mountains, with no company.  He never even got to say goodbye to his fiancé and tell him one more time that Viktor treasured him. 

A golden, warm light danced across the snow, and Viktor perked up.  Was it rescue?  Had his hiking group found him?  Had his fiancé found him?  Viktor capped his thermos and shoved it in his backpack before stumbling forwards.

“Who’s there?” he called, but nobody responded.  He quickened his pace, following the bobbing orange light.  It faded in and out of the darkness, teasing him.  Something in the back of his mind warned him, screamed at him, but he ignored it. 

Suddenly, the orange light faded, but in its place was moonlight filtering through the trees, and Viktor soon happened upon a clearing.  In front of him was a still lake, still without a hint of a ripple, like a mirror reflecting the rising moon and the stars peeking between clouds.  Beside the lake was a cabin, also covered in snow, with the same warm, orange light peeking out of the windows.  It was well cared for, with wood stacked underneath a small awning to shelter it from the snow.  Viktor hurried towards the cabin and knocked on the door.  Nobody answered.

“Anyone there?” Viktor asked, voice coming out as a croak.  When there was no response, Viktor debated the morality of letting himself into someone else’s cabin.  What if the owner was out, and when he returned, he found a stranger sitting in the middle of his home?  It was dangerous to enter uninvited, but it was even more dangerous to stay outside in the freezing temperatures.

Viktor made his decision.  He pushed open the unlocked door (for who else other than the owner would ever live here?) and shook violently when a burst of warmth hit him.  He politely hung up his coat and scarf on nearby hooks to dry, toed off his boots, and slung his backpack down by the door. 

It was a charming little cabin, sparsely decorated but well-lived in.  There was only one large room, with a bed pushed into a corner and a window above it facing the lake.  There was a stove on the other side of the room, pots and pans neatly hanging from the wall and plates stacked in cabinets.  A single table and chair sat in the middle of the room, right in front of a roaring fireplace.

Viktor hurried towards the fireplace and stuck his hands nearly into the fire.  The flames licked mere centimeters from his fingers, but Viktor couldn’t find it in himself to care as the ice in him started thawing out, and feeling returned to his skin.

Thoroughly warmed, Viktor went in search of food and found all sorts of dried and preserved meat as well as cans of soup and beans and a loaf of bread.  Viktor made himself a sandwich and heated a can of soup, hoping that the owner wouldn’t mind the rudeness.  Viktor would be sure to leave money before he left.

The night passed on like this, no sign of the owner returning.  Viktor laid in front of the fireplace, sated and warm, covered by a blanket.  He turned towards the fireplace and hoped that his hiking group would find him.  He’d leave in the morning, search some more.

He drifted to sleep to the sound of tinkling water hitting the window and the seductive singing of the moon.

* * *

Viktor awoke to sunlight filtering through the windows.  He sat up and blinked the crust out of his eyes.  The fire had died down to a few smoldering embers.  Viktor readied himself another sandwich and refilled his thermos with hot water boiled in a pot.  He shrugged on his jacket and scarf and pulled his boots on.  Before he left, he placed some money, well enough to cover whatever he had taken, on the table.

It was bright and sunny outside.  The snow was undisturbed, his own tracks from last night having disappeared.  He pushed away the suspicion that somebody was there, watching him, and he scanned his surroundings.  The sunlight sparkled off of the lake and leaked into the forest, making it appear more inviting than it had yesterday, docile and sleeping instead of foreboding.  He set off into it with renewed spirits.

No matter how far he trekked, however, Viktor still found no sign of life, whether it be the rustling of birds or the silent stalking of foxes.  It was midday by the time Viktor decided to stop.  If he hiked any further into the forest, he’d be lost again.  It was probably a better idea to return to the cabin and perhaps apologize to the owner for the liberties he’d taken last night.  At least he’d have another warm place to stay.

Viktor turned to find his tracks once again erased.  Fear crawled up his spine.  He didn’t know if someone, some _thing_ , was following him.  It hadn’t snowed all day, so his footsteps should have been clear in the snow, but yet…

Viktor shivered.  Something was very wrong with this forest.  Viktor tried to retrace his own hike, doubtful he’d find the cabin again without his past trail to guide him.  The sun was beginning to set again, the same cast of shadows descending on the trees to make them appear taller than they were.  As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Viktor saw light filtering through the hulking silhouettes of the forest edge and the familiar orange glow of his cabin. 

He made his way inside after knocking, sure that at least today he’d meet the owner.  However, nobody was inside, only the same roaring fire.  The food Viktor had taken last night had been restocked, with the pots and pans neatly back on the shelf.  Clearly someone had been back when Viktor had been gone.

Viktor had been staring out the window, admiring the lake view and wishing his phone weren’t dead so he could at least take a picture, when there was a flicker of something breaking the surface.  Viktor jerked upright.  It was a sign of life, the first he’d seen since he had gotten lost.

There was movement again, a flick of water that rippled across the lake before disappearing again.  It slowly made its way closer and closer to the shore.  After a while, it was so close that Viktor could make out a creature with a tail, splashing in the lake.  With a deft and quick movement, a splash of water hit the window, shaking the man out of his daze.  Viktor grabbed his coat and shoved his feet into his boots. 

 _Come play with me_ , the movements seemed to say.  _Come join me in the water_.

Viktor found himself standing at the shore, water centimeters from his boots and lapping at the shore from the disturbances of the… _thing_ in the water.  Viktor strained his eyes, with only moonlight to guide them, when he saw the light sliding off of something smooth, something with scales.

A fish?  Viktor had never seen a fish so big, with such a large tail.  The creature dipped below the water and appeared even closer to Viktor.

There was a quick intake of breath and a high chime of a laugh, a playful flip of a fin, and suddenly, there was the torso of a man submerged in the water.

It had short black hair that was slicked backwards and sly, black eyes that danced.  Its lips were full and skin pale, like it was made of the moonlight itself.  It wore strips of translucent fabric that melted into the water, hiding nothing of a muscular but lean body, no sign of fat anywhere.  The creature smirked and slid carefully into the water so that only its eyes and curved mouth were showing.

“Who are you?”  The question escaped Viktor without his notice.  He found himself breathless at the beauty of the man.

The man opened his mouth, and between its sharp, knife-like teeth came a laugh, like chimes. 

“I have many names, but you may call me Ondine.”

“Ondine…”

Ondine lifted a hand and touched a finger to his chin, tilting his head like a curious cat that held a mouse between its paws.

“Come into the water with me, Viktor,” the creature purred, and it didn’t even occur to Viktor to ask how it had known his name.  Even with the torso of a mesmerizing man, it was truly a creature, for when it swam closer to the shore, Viktor could make out black, fish-like scales that melted seamlessly into skin at its waist.  It had fins protruding down its sides before the tail flared at the end into two fins.  On closer inspection, the same black scales littered the creature’s torso, around his shoulders and wrists, neck and cheeks.  There were also no whites in its eyes, only sleek black.

Ondine grinned its razor sharp smile, and distantly, Viktor knew that he was supposed to be afraid, but there was something that was muffling his thoughts, like a blanket that smothered everything beneath it.  Viktor felt safe, as if nothing mattered in the world except himself and this creature.  His past didn’t matter, and neither did the future.  Only him and Ondine.

Viktor took a step towards the water, and the shock of cold water soaking through his pants and chilling his ankles was the only thing that shook him out of his daze.  The blanket was ripped off, and in its place were alarm bells shrieking at him that this creature was dangerous.

“What are you?” Viktor breathed, frozen as fear leaked into his bones.

The creature seemed to realize that its hold on the man has slipped, and it huffed, a pout worming its way onto its lips.  With his mind clear, Viktor found that the man looked stunningly familiar, and Viktor’s guard slipped again at the unexpected realization.

“I’m Ondine,” it repeated before swimming back into the lake.

Viktor frowned.  “Are you the only one here?”  Surely this was the creature that was so dangerous in these parts of the woods, the reason that no wildlife encroached on its territory.

The creature dipped into the water, and even though its eyes were completely black, Viktor had the impression that it was looking downwards in sadness. 

“I’m the only one who lives here.”

“It must be lonely.”

“It is very lonely.”  The creature then perked up and dove into the water.  Viktor thought that he’d upset it and was about to turn to leave when it reappeared.  “But it’s less lonely when you’re here.  You are my first visitor in a while.”

“What about the owner of the cabin?” Viktor asked.  He found himself a dry patch of ground and sat down.  It felt nice, having company after two days of isolation.  There was someone to talk to finally, someone to interact with and alleviate the oppressive silence of snow that laid so heavily on the entire forest.

“Nobody owns the cabin,” Ondine responded, flipping onto its back in one fluid motion so that Viktor could see its whole body.  It had a lithe body, sinuous like a snake but sleek like a fish. 

“You’re like a mermaid, from a fairytale,” Viktor said, offering a friendly smile to the creature.  It snorted and stared up at the human reprovingly.

“I am nothing like your fairytale mermaids,” it hissed in a sibilant tone.  It grinned wide, showing off its needle teeth and widening its void-like eyes.

“But you’re just as beautiful,” Viktor offered in an attempt to placate it.  It blinked, and although it had no eyelids, an opaque film quickly flickered across its eyes.

Viktor marveled at the small tint of red that started to spread across its cheeks.  He wondered how far down that blush would go before viciously shaking the thought out of his head.  He had a _fiancé_ , for goodness’s sake, and there was no power on earth that would tempt him away from the love of his life.  Not even this seductive creature.

“You’re the first to say that,” Ondine grinned, narrowing its eyes.  It stretched, showing off muscles and smooth, smooth skin underneath beads of jewelry.  It held out both of its arms.  “Come join me in the water.”

“Do you want me to drown or freeze to death?” Viktor joked.

“You wouldn’t, not with me here,” Ondine promised.  “With me, you’ll live forever.  I have a palace beneath the lake, full of treasure you will never see on land.  I can offer you every pleasure your mortal life can offer and even more.”  Ondine’s eyes hooded, and it hauled itself across the shore and closer to Viktor until they were arm’s length away from each other.  It laid a palm across Viktor’s cheek, and its skin was ice-cold to the touch, slick with water.  Viktor couldn’t find it in himself to draw away.

“I can give you the world’s greatest delicacies.”  A finger traces from Viktor’s cheek to his lips and dipped teasingly along the seam.  A sharp, hard fingernail scraped across Viktor’s teeth before the finger continued its journey across his lips.  Viktor felt heat stir low in his belly, and he swallowed in an attempt to wet his suddenly dry throat.  He licked his lips, tongue flicking against the finger, and the flavor of ice and snow burst across in his mouth.  Ondine’s mouth curled in pleasure as he slithered even closer to the mortal.

“I can give you the world’s most valuable treasures.”  Ondine’s finger dragged down Viktor’s throat before the delicate hand wrapped around his neck, squeezing slightly.  Viktor’s breathing hitched, mesmerized by the impish look on Ondine, the smug smile playing around his lips, the hooded black eyes that sparkled like the stars were trapped in them.  His hand then scraped down to his collarbones, and the other hand came to encircle Viktor’s wrist, clasped tightly like a shackle.

“I can give you the world’s most _carnal_ pleasures.”  Viktor’s fingers convulsed when Ondine purred low in his chest and leaned upwards.  He pressed his full torso to the man’s, and Viktor could feel every line and hard muscle through his coat, feel the smoothness and chill of Ondine’s skin.  Viktor’s breath came ragged, and he felt too hot for winter.  Fire raced behind each touch of skin on skin, freezing the blood in his veins.  A low whine dragged itself out of Viktor.

Suddenly, Ondine disappeared.  Viktor felt disoriented, like a rug had been jerked out from under his feet, and he was falling, falling, with nothing to catch him.  He sucked in a loud and deep gasp of air, panting as heat throbbed in his stomach and his heart pounded in his chest.

“But that’s your decision.”  Ondine winked, and it slid into the water without even a goodbye.

Dawn slowly crept back into the sky, and Viktor returned to the cabin to dream of icy skin and the taste of winter.

* * *

Viktor awoke again, disturbed from his rest as water sprinkled against the window, tinkling like piano keys being plucked.  He looked outside to see the sun about to sink again.  Had he been asleep the whole day?  There was another fire in the fireplace, wood newly added to the hearth.  Viktor dressed himself and felt like he was missing something, something important.

He should have been…what should have he been doing?  There was something at the edges of his memory, like a long-forgotten dream, a distant past, but like many half-remembered memories, Viktor pushed it away.

Viktor put on his coat and boots before making his way back to the lake, where Ondine was waiting.

“I was wondering when you’d come to visit me again.”

Ondine laughed, high like a wind chime disturbed by a gentle wind.  It flipped in the water like a playful sprite, leaping and twisting.  The moonlight highlighted the jewels on its chest, the translucent sash tied around its slim waist, the water sliding off of white skin.

“How could I not?” Viktor asked, thoroughly charmed.

Ondine only smiled, like he had a secret but wouldn’t share with Viktor.  Viktor was suddenly very jealous of this secret.

“I’d thought you’d have gotten bored of me,” Ondine teased.

“Never,” Viktor assured, and he had the pleasure of seeing the smile widen, red sprinkling pale cheeks and delight in every movement of the creature’s dance.

“You’re a real treasure.  You must join me at my palace beneath the lake.  You will want for nothing,” Ondine tempted.  “I will give you everything you desire.  I will give you eternal life, and you shall live forever with me.”

Viktor felt his heart tug. He wanted it.  He wanted it very badly. 

“Then take me there,” he breathed, but Ondine only tutted and turned away with faux sadness.

“Not many would wish to live with me for eternity, though,” Ondine said mournfully, sighing exaggeratedly.  He glanced up between his eyelashes coyly.  “They all say that they promise to stay with me forever, but then at the last second, they take back their promise, and they try to leave.”

“I won’t,” Viktor promised, and Ondine laughed again, this time sharper, like the beauty of a thousand knives poised to strike, dangerous and cutting.

“You men say that every time.”

“I mean it.”

Ondine hummed, glancing over its shoulder slyly.  It arched his back, and Viktor longed to trace his hand down the smooth skin, to feel where it met scales, to press kisses against those shoulder blades.  He wanted to hear the sounds it would make as he sucked on that long neck, toyed and tugged on the slicked back hair, scraped blunt human fingernails down the taut stomach.

“But you have a fiancé, do you not?  Will you abandon him for me?” Ondine asked, glancing down at Viktor’s right hand, where his golden band sat shining.

Viktor startled before a rush of shame and guilt flooded through him.  He flushed.  He’d forgotten, how had he forgotten his sweet fiancé?  How could Viktor be so shameless as to be tempted away from the love of his life?

“I-I do,” Viktor stuttered.

“But you said you’d stay with me forever.  So who would you give your life to?  A flawed, mortal man who can only give you what he’s willing to offer, or will you stay with me, where you’ll live eternally within my arms?”

Viktor barely even had to think about his decision.  He felt like he’s drowning in this winter wonderland, every gasp he took not enough, every movement slowed, every thought sluggish.

“I’d stay with you.”

Ondine smiled that secret smile again. 

“You’re a beautiful man, the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen,” Ondine cooed, swimming coyly towards the shore and slithering onto land like a snake.  Viktor sat so that they could be face to face and found himself with a lapful of wet scales, silk smooth skin, and black hair. 

“The most beautiful on earth would be you,” Viktor murmured back.

“So charming, such charisma,” Ondine said, smooth as butter.  It clawed one hand through Viktor’s hair and tilted the man’s head back, lips mere millimeters from Viktor’s own.  “All for my taking.”

“All for you.”

Ondine made a delighted sound before finally, _finally_ giving Viktor a taste.  Viktor felt like he’d waited for eons for the simple taste, the press of skin against skin, the scrape of inhumanly sharp fingernails against his neck.  He moaned and pressed the cold body closer.

Ondine opened its mouth and licked into Viktor’s mouth.  Viktor tasted blood from where the creature’s teeth cut into his lips, pleasure singing down his spine.  He clutched at the bare shoulders, rubbed his hands across ribs and taut muscle, scraped and pawed at where skin met scales.

Viktor didn’t know how long he drowned in kissed.  He felt like he was lost in the forest again, but this time he felt no desire to escape.  Viktor wanted to stay, was content with this seductive, mesmerizing creature between his arms.  There was no greater treasure or desire than the one currently nipping at his throat, creating shallow lines that bled sluggishly and lapping at the blood like a kitten.  Viktor whined at the sensation.

“You’re so pliant for me,” Ondine praised.  It drew back regretfully, and Viktor swayed forward like it was the north pole, and he was a magnet.  He felt wrecked, shaken down to the bones, nothing left but a puddle of feverish desire.  “Alas, dawn is approaching, and I must go.”

“Stay,” Viktor begged, and Ondine only shook its head.  It flipped back into the water in one sinuous arc, and when it turned back to Viktor, it held out one finger.

“You have until tomorrow to make a decision.  Tomorrow, you will either join me beneath this lake or return to your mortal life.  I await your response.”

And like before, the moment sunlight hit the surface of the lake, Ondine was gone.

* * *

Viktor couldn’t even sleep when he returned to the cabin.  He felt hot all over, like there was a fire that wouldn’t extinguish itself in his veins, fed by thoughts of the creature that had so captured all of Viktor.  He pressed at the scabbing lines on his throat, the bruises from fingers that pressed too hard at his neck from swollen, full, icy lips.

He spent the rest of the day waiting out by the lake.

Perhaps he could throw himself in the lake right now.  Perhaps Ondine would return tonight, surprised to see him already waiting at the palace beneath the lake.  Perhaps it will be like falling asleep, cradled within the pressure of water and feel of ice, and Ondine would guide him to immortality.  He shuddered at the thought.

Time seemed to both pass as quickly as a bird’s flight and as slowly as a turtle’s amble.  Viktor traced the sun as it made its way across the sky, from morning to noon to evening.  It was still, no breeze to disturb the stillness of the lake, to ruffle the snow.

Finally, dusk fell, and Viktor felt his breath stutter at the, by now, familiar sight of a tail teasing the surface of the lake.  Viktor raced out to the shore, the water pooling around his boots, not deep enough to soak through but close enough.  Ondine flitted in and out of Viktor’s sight, showing a hint of scale, fin, and blackness.  When the creature finally drew closer to Viktor, it looked uncharacteristically solemn.

“Your decision?” Ondine asked, black eyes unreadable.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Viktor breathed.  He crouched down and touched Ondine’s cheek, wondering to himself how he could ever let this creature go.

Ondine peered upwards, a frown tugging at his full lips.  He reached up as well, fingertips flirting with Viktor’s flesh, not quite touching, not yet.  Viktor held still, hoping that he could feel that same pleasure of ice, the fire that followed a freezing touch.

“You’re so young,” Ondine mused.

“Old enough,” Viktor countered, and he leaned forwards, perched precariously.  One wrong move and he would have found himself dipping into the lake.

Ondine searched Viktor, as if looking for something.  He reached into the water, and when he raised his hand again, Viktor could see a golden ring, gleaming in the silver moonlight.

“Will you put it on for me?  Will you become king of the lakes with me?” Ondine asked, and Viktor reached for it without hesitation.  Ondine pulled it back, clasping its fingers around it, and insisted, “If you do, you will not be able to return here.  You will be with me forever, down beneath the lake, where there is no air, no human sustenance, no company except for my own.  Will you still take the ring?”

There was a distant scream in Viktor’s head, yelling and pleading, but he ignored it and grinned foolishly, not understanding why Ondine was starting to look distressed.  Viktor never wanted to see Ondine like this again.  Viktor would sooth away all of the creature’s worries and cherish it.  “I would do anything for you.”

A broken sob broke free from Ondine, and Ondine reached up, up, until its arms were wrapped around Viktor’s neck.  Viktor teetered before falling into the lake.  He paid no heed of the water soaking through his pants and shirt, felt none of the thousand stings of needles from the chill, noticed nothing of the sluggishness that was coming over his body and mind.

Viktor hefted Ondine into his arms and walked into the water until he was waist deep, where Ondine wouldn’t have to exert itself to stay eye to eye with the human.  There was something dragging him under, and Viktor welcomed the cold press of the lake.  He felt nothing but the creature in his arms.

Here, face to face, in the water, Ondine was beautiful.  It floated effortlessly, tail only making miniscule movements to remain on the same height as Viktor.  Viktor brushed ice cold tears away from Ondine’s eyes and smiled brilliantly.

“Why are you crying?” Viktor asked gently.

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you,” Ondine said, and even with tears trailing down its cheeks, it still looked ethereal, like an angel descended from heaven.  Viktor laughed freely.  He’d never felt happier in his life.

“That’s a good thing, then, because I’ve fallen in love with you too,” Viktor said, leaning forwards to kiss the tears away.  Ondine leaned back, one sharply clawed hand resting above Viktor’s heart.

“You haven’t, though,” Ondine replied, and Viktor was confused.  Of course he had!  Viktor would give the world to Ondine, would do anything the creature asked, would give his whole life to this mesmerizing fae thing that had enthralled him so.

“I have.”

Ondine opened its mouth, about to say something, but Viktor crushed the words between them with a kiss.  Ondine’s breath stuttered, and it wove its fingers through Viktor’s hair, the other hand threading with Viktor’s fingers.  Viktor thought nothing in the world had never been more perfect than this moment.

Ondine shook its head, and Viktor was pleased to see it panting.  It cupped his cheek tenderly.

“Don’t abandon your life for me, Viktor,” Ondine whispered sweetly against Viktor’s lips.

“I would throw everything away for you.”

Ondine smiled, self-deprecatingly, and laid its forehead against Viktor’s own.  Viktor felt like his whole body was becoming numb, like it was sinking, sinking, sinking, down into the dark abyss of the lake, where he would be forever with this creature.  Tremors began to overtake his body, and Viktor’s eyes began to slip shut from exhaustion.

“Will you remember me, Viktor?”

“I would never forget you,” Viktor said, lips numb, before he slipped into blackness.

* * *

Viktor startled awake with a pounding in his head and chest.  He gasped, and crisp, winter air flooded his lungs.  His body was wracked with coughs, and over his wheezing, he kept hearing the pounding.

He was back in the cabin, on the bed beneath thick blankets, and he felt so, so cold, like he’d been dipped in arctic waters and held under for days.

Viktor realized, distantly, that the pounding was coming from the cabin doors.  He stumbled out of bed, the fire in the hearth long smothered by now, and the moment his feet touched the wooden floorboards he sneezed.  He felt like a newborn colt, not used to walking yet.  There were weights on his arms, and exhaustion was in every cell of his body.

He opened the door to the sight of his fiancé.

“Oh my god, Viktor, thank god,” Yuuri gasped, flinging himself at the man.  Viktor clutched back, feeling like he’d had a very long dream and was just beginning to shake away the cobwebs in his brain. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor muttered against soft black hair ( _slicked black hair, black eyes, black…?_ ).  Yuuri’s skin was warm and bronzed from the sun, and his breath was damp.  Viktor attempted to bury himself into his fiancé, into that familiar warmth and love.

“Viktor, don’t you dare do that again,” Yuuri cried, great ugly tears and snot leaking all over his face, and Viktor felt like he’d recently made someone else cry, someone precious, but he couldn’t remember whom.  “We’ve been searching for _days_.  Are you okay?  You’re freezing!  Have you eaten anything at all?”

“It _is_ a bit cold,” Viktor admitted, dragging Yuuri into the cabin.  “I’ve been eating, though.  I last ate…”

Viktor couldn’t remember when he’d last had food.  He felt weak and hot, with no strength left in his limbs.  His mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton.  When he tried to recall the last several days, the memories kept slipping out from between his fingers, like a silver and black fish.  All he could remember was a teasing flick of scales in the water.  He immediately looked up and out of the window, looking for something.  He couldn’t remember.  _What was he forgetting?_

“Thank god this cabin is well stocked.  We’ll have to thank the owner for keeping you safe,” Yuuri said, bustling over to the kitchen after stoking a small fire in the fireplace.  His activity faded into the background, and Viktor only stared at the rippling lake, moving from the force of a wind and glittering like stars from the sunlight.

He felt the lingering sensation of ice cold skin, the taste of snow, and sharp teeth and nails before the memory flitted away with the last vestiges of night.

* * *

_“Will you remember me in the morning?”_

_“Forever.”_

_“…liar.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of Aloysius Bertrand’s poem Ondine. In case it wasn’t clear, the Ondine is somewhat like a siren. The poems tells the story of an Ondine trying to tempt a man into the water with promises of eternal life, meaning that the Ondine would drown the man (thus, eternal existence with her). The man rejects her offer because he has a fiancée, and the Ondine disappears without a trace. I’ve given the story a bit of a twist. Ondine tries to tempt Viktor into the lake but instead finds itself falling in love with the human as well, and because it sees Viktor has only fallen for it because of the magic it’s woven over him and not because Viktor truly loves Ondine. It lets him go, and Viktor remembers nothing of it in the morning.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome. Let me know if you see any breaks in tenses or other continuity issues.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> haplesshippo


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